


Springtime

by Thysanotus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-23
Updated: 2005-11-23
Packaged: 2018-10-27 07:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thysanotus/pseuds/Thysanotus
Summary: The second of twenty two ficlets written as a lead up to my birthday.





	Springtime

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: This one is for [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=pennie_layne)[](http://www.livejournal.com/users/pennie_layne/)**pennie_layne** , who requested _luna/draco, death, spring, mother, book and morals._  


* * *

It’s springtime, not that you would know it outside, with the mud churned bloody and the scent of death on the air. Voldemort has laid siege to the castle, and every day the ceiling of the Great Hall seems to lower ever-closer, as though hungry for the taste of fear.  
  
Luna swings her legs at the Ravenclaw table. She can count on one hand the number of girls left in her house, most removed from the school on the pretence of ill relations or family emergencies when it became apparent that Voldemort wasn’t just going to give up and go away, like a petulant child denied sweets.  
  
She doesn’t mind the thought that she might die. Death, for Luna, is not an ending. The shocked surprise on her mother’s face as her wand spun, end over end, light glinting off the polished handle is an expression that will live with her forever. Sometimes, late at night when she can’t sleep, she pads to the bathroom, contorting her face into a grimace, a snarl, a clichéd wide eyed look of surprise, hunting for that elusive look. She can never quite find it.  
  
\--  
  
When she comes down to breakfast the next morning, Professor McGonagall beckons her harshly toward the Gryffindor table.  
  
“We will all be eating together from now on, Miss Lovegood,” she snaps tersely.  
  
Luna nods, knowing Professor McGonagall has to drink at least one cup of coffee laced with something from the bottle she keeps under her robes before she can find any kindness within herself.  
  
Luna slips into the seat next to Ginny, whose freckles and eyes are blazing at the person opposite her. Looking up, she notes the drawn mouth and trembling fingers before she meets Draco Malfoy’s eyes. He blinks first, returning his gaze to his plate, fringe drooping to conceal those eyes, that expression of surprise.  
  
Afterwards, Luna waits for Draco, wondering how best to ask him. He jerks his robe free from her clutching fingers, sneering at her as she bends to retrieve her quill.  
  
He tells her to meet him later, during the last class, here, at the Ravenclaw table. She nods silently, and watches him walk away from her, his figure receding into the distance, blurring into grey and white.  
  
\--  
  
Luna sits alone at the Ravenclaw table. The Great Hall is deserted, echoing silence filling her ears. She taps the bench beside her, humming quietly. It’s a simple tune, one that weaves through the mind, reminiscent of home and mother and early childhood, before you learnt the world was smudged and broken.  
  
The sound wavers through Draco’s ears, and he narrows his eyes at the slight blonde girl, watching her drag one foot against the floor.  
  
A tap on her shoulder makes Luna peer upwards, smiling at Draco.  
  
\--  
  
The ceiling of the Great Hall is high and arched, it’s curve reflected in the strain of Luna’s hips, the curl of her mouth against Draco’s.  
  
A whimpering moan refracts in the empty hall, grey eyes pleading as Draco remains implacable.  
  
\--  
  
“Are you sure?” Draco murmurs in her ear. Her hair is wrapped around his fist, her neck bare. The pulse in the hollow of her throat flutters.  
  
She can’t move her head to nod, so she murmurs faint assent as he drags cruelly on her hair.  
  
The green light hurts her eyes, but she’s doing it, she can see in the mirror the look is finally crossing her face.  
  
\--  
  
As the Lovegood girl hits the ground with a raw edged thump, Draco slips his wand back into the holder in his pants. It’s all over, now.  
  
The world is marked with grubby fingerprints.  


* * *


End file.
